113: Strawberry Ice Cream
KILLIAN
Her chin jerked under my hand, her eyes flashing with the familiar defiance I’d fallen in love with. My Angel was baring her teeth at the Devil.
"Don't lie to me," I said, my voice laced with menace even though the corner of my mouth was tugged upward.
She was lying. Of course she was. And fuck me, I adored it. It was adorable how she thought she could play me and slip past me. She didn't understand that I wanted her wild. I wanted the blood on her hands, the sharp tongue, and the sharp blades. All of it.
But she was carrying my child. Our child. And that was the only reason my jaw tightened.
She muttered something about a shower and stalked off towards the bathroom. She wasn’t scared. My Angel was never scared of me. Instead, she was bristling with a wolfish pride. My gaze followed her every step, the sway of her hips even in sweatpants, and the defiance in the set of her shoulders.
I smirked when the door shut behind her. Silly woman.
But then the nausea clawed at me again.
"Fuck," I snarled, ripping off the towel at my neck and dragging on the nearest pair of loose pants. My stomach twisted like it was wringing itself inside out, and I collapsed onto the bed with a groan.
I was curled up like some wounded wolf. If she came out and saw me like this, she'd laugh until she cried. And I'd let her.
My phone buzzed, and I grabbed it, tension bleeding into my voice when I spoke.
"What?" I growled.
"Boss," Ethan's clipped voice came through, calm and steady as always. "I've got the info you wanted."
Through the haze of pain, my smirk returned.
"Good," I rasped. "Talk."
Ethan didn't waste time. "We traced the delivery boy. He was a pawn, paid in cash to drop the lilies. But the florist is owned by a shell company. The paper trail leads back to a warehouse on Pier 19."
Pier 19. My lips curled. That was Black Scorpion's territory. He'd just handed me his throat.
"I want eyes on that warehouse," I said darkly, pressing a hand into my stomach. "Secure the cameras. I need patterns. I want to know who goes in and out, down to the last rat scurrying across the floor."
"Already ahead of you, K," Ethan said. "But there's more. We caught chatter about a 'queen in red.' They're not just after you anymore. They're circling her."
My jaw clenched. The image of those white lilies flashed in my mind. Rage burst through my veins.
A violent twist in my gut made me suck in a sharp breath. The pain lanced through me, doubling me over before I could stop it.
"K?" Ethan's voice was laced with concern now. "What was that?"
I ground my teeth, forcing the growl down. "Nothing. Keep talking."
"That doesn’t sound like nothing." His tone dipped, tinged with suspicion. "Are you—"
"I said, 'Keep talking.'" I bit out, rolling onto my side, one arm braced against my middle. I'd sooner cut my own tongue out than admit I was laid low by phantom pains while my wife colored the streets red.
There was a pause, then Ethan exhaled. He knew better than to press me when my voice turned lethal.
"Fine," he muttered. "We'll have Pier 19 locked down within the hour."
"Good," I rasped, sweat beading at my temple. The call ended, and I lowered the phone.
The bathroom door clicked open, steam curling out into the bedroom. I cracked one eye open, still lying on my side with my stomach knotted tight, and there she was, wrapped in a plush white robe, a towel knotted over her damp hair.
She padded across the carpet, and for a moment, she didn't say a word. Then she perched on the edge of the bed and slid her hand across my abdomen. Her palm was warm as she rubbed gentle circles.
"You're pale," she murmured, her voice soft. "Is there anything you want, love?”
For once, I didn't have a snarl ready. I just exhaled, heavy and rough, letting my eyes slip shut as I leaned into her touch. "Ice cream," I muttered, almost grudgingly.
The sound that left her throat was pure music. She giggled. Actually giggled.
She bent forward, her lips brushing my temple as she laughed against my skin. "Ice cream? My broody king, reduced to cravings. You're going to get fat soon, you know that?"
My eyes snapped open, narrowing on her, a lethal glower slicing across my face. Fat? Me?
Her laughter only grew louder at my expression. She pressed her palm firmer against my stomach, her touch soothing even as her words pricked my pride.
"You think this is funny?" I growled, my voice gravel-rough.
Her lips curved, her smile wicked and tender all at once. "Hilarious, actually."
I sighed, shaking my head in defeat. She reached up to run her fingers through my hair.
“I’ll be back, okay? Hold on for me,” she said and hurried out of the room.
She came back a few minutes later with a tub of strawberry ice cream with two spoons jutting from the top.
"Move over," she ordered softly, climbing up beside me without waiting for permission. Her robe brushed my arm, the faint scent of her soap filling the space between us.
I let her settle at my side, and sure enough, her hand found its place over my abdomen again, her warm palm pressing slow circles into me. God, I loved it.
She popped the lid off the ice cream, scooped out a spoonful, and held it to my mouth. I arched a brow at her. "You think I can't feed myself?"
"You're pitiful enough tonight," she teased, smirking. "Let me have this."
I glowered at her but leaned in and closed my lips around the spoon. Cold sweetness hit my tongue, clashing with the bitterness in my gut. I groaned low in my throat.
Her eyes lit up. "Oh my God. Did the Hollow Saint just moan over strawberry ice cream?"
"Shut up." I snatched the spoon from her hand and dug into the tub myself, scooping out half the container in one go.
"Hey!" she gasped, laughing. "That's supposed to be shared."
I took a scoop and held it to her, watching the way she consumed the ice cream.
Then she took her spoon and stole a bigger scoop, her lips wrapping around the bite like she was taunting me. Ice cream lingered at the corner of her mouth, and I narrowed my eyes at her.
"Greedy little thief," I muttered.
"Sharing is caring." She giggled, her fingers still rubbing lazy circles over my stomach.
I scooped up another spoonful and leaned in, holding it between my teeth instead of offering it to her. Her brows arched, mischief sparking in her eyes.
"Seriously?" she asked.
I smirked, refusing to answer. If she wanted it, she'd have to come take it.
She leaned forward, her towel slipping loose from her damp hair, and pressed her mouth to mine. Cold sweetness melted between us, the taste of strawberry mixing with the warmth of her lips.
For a moment, it wasn't about the ice cream at all. It was about the soft give of her mouth, the laughter humming in her chest, and the way her breath caught just before I deepened the kiss.
When she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glinting. "That's... one way to share."
I licked a trace of strawberry from my bottom lip, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. "You're insufferable."
"You love me."
"Can’t deny that." I caught her chin in my hand and kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the ridiculous sweetness of sugar and her mouth together.
Her giggle broke against my lips, and she rested her forehead against mine, whispering, "We're disgusting."
"Speak for yourself," I said, reaching back for the tub.
"I'm perfect."
She laughed harder, and for once, the cramps twisting in my stomach dulled under the warmth of her.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed again, and the intercom on the nightstand crackled to life with the head security guard's voice.
"Sir. A package just arrived for you.“
My entire body went still. I set the spoon down carefully, the sweetness in my mouth suddenly tasting like ash.
Sera's hand paused over my stomach, her fingers tightening as she looked up at me.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, already sitting up.
"Bring it up," I said coldly, every trace of indulgence bleeding out of my voice.
The guard hesitated. "Sir... it's marked with a scorpion seal."
I grinned. The cramps twisted harder, but rage drowned them out.
So, the bastard had delivered a package straight to my door.
Perfect.